


open hand or closed fist

by dexstarr



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alice Cooper/Hal Cooper mentioned, Biting, Clifford Blossom/Penelope Blossom mentioned, F/F, Femslash, Hate Sex, Infidelity, Marking, Older Characters, Parent Fic, Riverdale parents, Riverparents, These two have a history, You can't tell me otherwise, parentdale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 12:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr/pseuds/dexstarr
Summary: The first time they kiss in twenty years, it’s hidden in the bathroom, a throwback to Alice’s Southside days.Penelope’s like goddamn Blossom maple syrup aged in bourbon barrels, more complex and bitter than she was in high school. And richer, in money and taste, but that goes without saying.





	open hand or closed fist

**Author's Note:**

> _Riverdale_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. The title is from "Cherry Wine" by Hozier.

The first time they touch in twenty years, it’s Penelope’s hand cracking against Alice’s cheek. (It’s an accurate snapshot of their history.)

The first time they kiss in twenty years, it’s hidden in the bathroom, a throwback to Alice’s Southside days. (She liked to drag Penelope in the mud, to besmirch her high class ways.)

The first time they fuck in twenty years, it’s the first time Alice goes to beg Polly to come home to her and Betty. She doesn’t let Betty come, doesn’t even tell her she’s going to Thornhill. (Some part of Alice knows how the attempt will end.)

(Her assumption is right.)

Stymied at the door by Penelope, Alice doesn’t even see her daughter. But she does see the inside of the Blossom master suite for the first time in twenty years. They always did move fast, so it’s nothing to go from a slap to sex in the space of a few weeks. 

Alice likes that they fuck in Clifford’s obscenely large bed, and, for once, she’s too busy marking her conquest to look around at anything but the woman between her legs. They’re both older, minds and bodies changed by children and spouses and life, but she likes Penelope better this way. Penelope’s like goddamn Blossom maple syrup aged in bourbon barrels, more complex and bitter than she was in high school. And richer, in money and taste, but that goes without saying. 

(Time has made both of them better at this too, even if Alice was always pretty damn good at fucking every girl she wanted.)

After she’s had her fill, Alice leads Penelope to the three-way mirror, eager to show off. 

“You bitch.” Penelope’s eyebrows raise at the nail marks snaking down her spine, but her voice lacks its usual cold venom. 

Alice puts her chin on Penelope’s shoulder and smiles at their reflection. “Your turn,” she says sweetly. Penelope gives Alice that _look_ , the one that proclaims her queen of Riverdale, better than everyone else. But her eyes smolder with something that’s only for Alice: lust and hate. Two sides of the same coin, another accurate snapshot for them. It simply depends on the moment which feeling is stronger. 

Right now, it’s lust. Impatient, Alice gathers a handful of red hair and tugs, something she’s longed to do ever since Penelope started wearing it up in those damn chignons. “I kicked Hal out,” she murmurs, blowing more hair away from her neck. “There’s no one to see me.” Alice bites the side of Penelope’s throat and sucks hard, staking her claim on that elegant pale skin, because Penelope does have someone who will see. 

Penelope snorts delicately. “As if you ever explained yourself, Alice Cooper.” She pulls Alice back to the bed, fingers curled over the front of her sensible bra. Of course Penelope was wearing matching maroon lace when they started, as if she expected an afternoon of bickering and sex. Who knows what a Blossom expects? 

“I do. Sometimes.” Alice goes willingly, falling onto her back and pulling Penelope along with her. “When it gets me something I want.” 

“ _I_ want you to use that smart mouth of yours in a better way.” Penelope stares down at Alice, knees on either side of her head. 

The first time Alice makes Penelope come in twenty years, Penelope curses her name in that desperate tone that’s hers and hers alone. Arousal floods Alice again, hot and sticky, at the longing in Penelope’s moans, and the hatred in the dark eyes staring down at her. (She wagers not even Clifford has heard that level of neediness in all their years together.)

The first time Alice leaves Penelope’s bed in twenty years, she knows it won’t be another twenty before she’s back. (Polly is still at Thornhill, the perfect excuse to return.)

(Tomorrow, maybe, now that she’s had a taste of Penelope again.)

**Author's Note:**

> I recently bingewatched Riverdale and fell pretty hard for Alice and Penelope. This was supposed to be a drabble about first times, but it kept growing. 
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/) Prompts are welcome :)


End file.
